I have such grand thoughts
That are lovely to me,
But nobody wants to listen.
Can I be so wrong 'bout my heart's myriad songs,
When nobody wants to listen?
Could I have evolved from some alien race
Of some other time or some other place?
When I look in the mirror my face is your face,
But nobody wants to listen.
So I sing to myself,
Put my words on a shelf,
And hope in some space in
Some life I may find,
An ear and a heart
From some kindred start.
Oh, so long we'll both speak, smile,
And listen.
March, 1996
June
The worship I offer is holding this pet, Beholding that flower, And dancing Your music in lonely lost hour. The worship I offer is standing alone And not taking comfort That others might own - From limited gods who don’t have a way Of saving all things That have stories to say. The worship I offer at end of my life May die with me silent In empty dark night. But the worship I offer Is so much a part Of the cloth of my soul, the width of my heart. June
Thursday, June 23, 2016
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment
Thank you for your comment. *ALL* spam will be promptly deleted so please do not waste your time or mine.